THE CENTRAL AFRICAN REPUBLIC:
Pushing through thick 3 metre high elephant grass and dense jungle;
wading through creeks and a river on a remote trail used by Sudanese
refugees and smugglers we arrived at Obo, in the undeveloped east of
the C.A.R. The main road, once the Trans African Highway resembled a
4wd-adventure route. In the wet season it can take up to a week or more
to reach the improved road 1000km away. At night in the bush while lying
in our tent, the silence was occasionally broken by the sounds of monkeys
or baboons. Some nights the Tree Dassie, whose cry, long and repeated,
built up in pitch and volume until at its maximum after about 30 minutes,
suddenly ends, leaving a vacuum of silence. A nurse friend described
the cries like somebody dying.
On a full moon there were gunshots from hunters. Nearer to villages,
funeral drums beat all through the night. My front wheel cracked up
out in the bush but kept going until the capital city, Bangui. The nearest
bike shop was in France. So friends sent a new rim and just in time
we crossed the border before our visa's expired. A few weeks later the
soldiers went on a looting and shooting spree. A very timely exit!
[ Emi with our host in Guinea]
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NIGER: Temperatures daily in the high 40's and
nightly in the 30's. We were in The Sahel, a land of scrub and semi-desert
on the edge of the encroaching Sahara Desert. With the extreme heat
we took to starting well before sunrise with the stars to light our
way. In the fresh air of early morning we could hear the pounding
of millet by the women preparing the first meal of the day. Sometimes
along with the sound of the slow, rhythmic pounding we saw the women's
shadows dancing upon the red clay walls of their compound, cast there
by their cooking fires.
During the hottest part of the day between 11am and
5pm we would rest in what shade we could find. Once we tried to share
the only shade with a camel, but he didn't like our company and moved
on.
The first sandstorm to hit us came as a 50 metres high orange
cloud travelling fast towards us at ground level. In an instant every
loose object was in the air and the light turned orange in the chaos
of swirling fine sand. In the eye of the storm day turned to night.
For 45minutes it was so dark we couldn't see our hands in front of
our own face.
[ African womans life]
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SENEGAL: To cross the border to Senegal from Guinea
Bissau we decided to take a bush track we found marked on most maps.
Not finding the track and following local directions we encountered
soldiers who told us we were in an area of guerrilla activity and
the border was closed. Rather than backtrack through 60km of sticky
mud we kept going until we reached a small village on the river that
marked the border. There, a canoe was arranged for our bikes and us.
So with the canoe low in
the water, threatening to sink with the slightest wave or wrong move,
we were taken across the river with another canoe along side loaded
with over 200 litres of illegal local whisky. Avoiding the Senegalese
soldiers we crossed the wide river then passed through mangroves until
we reached a narrow spit of sand at the river mouth.
From there we
rode 10km along a hard packed sand beach to arrive at an area of Club
Med style resort hotels with electricity, telephones etc. another
world from the African bush only a few kilometres away. In Senegal
there were a lot of tourists. We couldn't help staring since it had
been over 9 months since we'd seen so many white people at once.
[On the way home with dinner?]
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MOROCCO: From the border of Mauritania we had over
1000km of treeless desert and strong headwinds. Early one morning
hundreds of kilometres from any habitation, we were beckoned to take
tea with a couple having a rest from driving. After a short time they
departed leaving us tea, sugar, bread, their grill and half a kilogram
of camel meat that we cut up and grilled over the remaining hot coals.
So sitting back, we enjoyed our Saharan breakfast under the wide blue
sky.
The transition from the sands of the Sahara to the snows of the high
Atlas Mountains was impressive. Out of the desert and into the populated
regions we passed by many ancient castles and walled cities of unique
architecture. In the high mountains the people tend their sheep and
live in multilevel rock and mud houses with flat roofs. Each village
has a mosque recognizable by the very tall ornate tower from where
5 times a day the lyrical call to prayer echoes through the narrow,
deep, remote valleys.
[ African girl]
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